


Minutes to Midnight

by TheWinterComet



Series: Second Chance [3]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Continuty, Cover Art, Depression, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Major Original Character(s), Murder Mystery, POV Alternating, Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29222802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWinterComet/pseuds/TheWinterComet
Summary: The world has lost its greatest Champions. Kris and Saber, children of Cynthia and Lance Masuta, stand in the shadow they left behind and grasp towards the futures they once thought certain. Meanwhile, fame-seeker Ciel Fauder must put his Sinnoh Gym Challenge on hold to face civil unrest, criminal activity, and inevitable disaster connected to the Champions' deaths. Acts as a soft-sequel to Platinum.
Series: Second Chance [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1164416
Kudos: 1





	1. Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

>   
>    
>  Cover art by me. This story was co-developed by Titan127 and beta read by [ShonnaRose.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShonnaRose/pseuds/ShonnaRose)  
> 

𒅆𒊒 𒍪𒅆,

_Life is priceless._

_Even we thought so. Yet, it's so easy to put a price on the soul when the temptation of something greater whispers that sickeningly sweet siren song in your ear. It's inside us all. The moment you try to deny it, the battle is already lost._

_Humans are an odd, destructive, dangerous people. But we, in all our infinite wisdom, fell to it just the same._

_It is inevitable, that when the ambition for something greater takes hold, someone dies._

_Always._

𒁾,

𒍪𒅆

* * *

"I wish it was yesterday," said Kris.

Yesterday was a beautiful instant. Kris escaped it as quickly as she entered, wishing it the same tepid goodbye she had offered thousands of its ancestors. Her infant self, facing her first farewell, might have struggled, but she had honed herself since then. Knowing that her memory stood defiant of the passage of time, it was useless to wish back a day that had never truly left. But this was the first time she remembered wanting the reality, not the memory, to replay.

The morning fog finally cleared over the water. Damp grains nestled themselves beneath her toes as she swirled her bare feet absentmindedly through the beach sands.

Her hand had grown numb in the grip of her brother's as they sat together by the sea. When they stepped up to the waves an indefinite time ago, they agreed in their silence not to glance behind them at the villa wrapped in yellow tape and painted with emergency lights.

Neither of them twitched. Neither of them coughed. Neither of them did anything. She wondered if he heard her speak, or if his senses had lost their grasp of reality. She felt it slipping herself.

"I don't," he said. When she looked over at him, Saber tilted his head to the sand. "I wish it was tomorrow."

Yesterday was a beautiful instant, but today was a horrible eternity. Neither of them asked for today, but they would suffer its grip. She wouldn't wish it goodbye when the time came.

"When tomorrow comes, I'm going to find who murdered them, one-hundred percent. Even if I have to walk to the ends of Kibra."

A sickness bloomed in her stomach. She didn't know if she could join him. She wanted justice. She wanted peace. But the truest feeling in her body wanted her to rest.

* * *

**March 2011 - Six Months Ago**

The end of her life, between parted velvet curtains, beckoned from the auditorium's recessed stage. The headmaster of Plateau Senior High School bowed to the crowd and offered his place to a homeroom professor when he descended the platform. She grimaced in her tight kimono but diligently carried out her duties as she announced the names of her students.

The entire third-year student body sat in a sea of chairs before the stage. No two students were adjacent, as to each student's right was a matted space for their partner Pokémon. All students of Plateau were required to train, and learn, and commit themselves to Pokémon alongside their general studies. The mats wouldn't stay vacant for long.

Upon hearing their name, the first student rose and exclaimed "Yes!" to accept their passage to the next life. At the same time, he tapped the button on his Poké Ball and released his Kingler in a brilliant flash of red. The clamp of its pincers sounded mechanical.

Another name was called, accompanied by a stand, an affirmation, and a Pokémon—Leavanny. Then another name. And another. The students became statues on their feet, and only when their entire third-year homeroom stood did the stone crack and allow them to fall to their seats. She saw friends from Track Club, rivals from Training Hall, distant acquaintances, polite enemies, and every heart-strung sap that had looked her way and decided she was out of their league. She would leave most, if not all of them, behind.

Kris kept her eyes focused on the stage as the professors cycled and more classes were revealed. Her nails sliced her palm as her fists clenched tighter, and her muscles coiled and wound each second she sat. It was just a simple roll call, a simple acceptance of her diploma. She needed to be dignified and collected, like Mom and Dad.

Finally, when class 3E's call began, the students around her began to stand. They weren't sitting in alphabetical order, so pillars rose at random around her. Finally, the voice of her homeroom professor announced the end of her childhood, and the beginning of her new world.

"Christine Masuta," the professor said.

Kris shot to her feet. The instant release of tension from her muscles nearly launched her airborne. The capsule in her palm clicked open. Her eyes filled with neon, and the heat of her materializing partner burned her skin. Zara, her Charizard, turned her snout to the ceiling and roared.

Kris harmonized with her partner, and sang with all her might, _"Yes!"_

The auditorium muted. Multiple students, faculty, and attending family members turned to her at her outburst. The only sound remaining was the subtle crackling of the flame on Zara's tail. But Kris refused them the courtesy of embarrassment, and she stood unflinching until the assembly reached a tacit agreement to continue.

The remainder of the roll call blurred in her mind, as her ordeal wasn't yet over. Kris's grades, battle performance, role as the Student Leader of Track Club, and various other accolades meant she was at the top of her class, which naturally also meant one thing.

She had a speech.

And not just any speech. She had the closing speech of the ceremony.

With her head tipped, the words rolled silently off her lips as she practiced for the thousandth time. At this point, she could repeat the transcript in alphabetical order from memory if she so pleased. This was a role three years in the making—the leader of her future.

The students began to sing celebratory hymns and no one noticed as she continued to practice under her breath. She had to be perfect. No slip ups or pauses. Absolutely perfect.

After the songs passed, the speeches began. Kris muttered to herself through the words of the Training Hall Coordinator. She whispered faster through the speeches of the homeroom teachers and the Student Council President. It was only when the penultimate guest speaker rose to the stage that she finally took a breath.

An energy surged through the graduating students as he ascended the platform stairs. His navy ceremonial uniform was concealed by the cloak billowing behind him. A king had appeared to greet his bowing subjects. His name was whispered through the student body. Lance Masuta, Champion of the Indigo Plateau.

Kris, of course, wasn't fazed by his appearance, and merely chuckled to herself at the star-stricken kids surrounding her. No matter the presence he exerted, Lance was one thing above all. He was Dad.

"Students," Dad began, "it is truly my honor to be in attendance today. I will keep this short, as I understand you wish to finish this ceremony and spend this joyous day with friends and family."

His eyes scanned the room, addressing everyone and anyone. Except for her. Strangely, his gaze never once landed on his daughter as he continued to judge the rising Trainers before him.

"You have fought for three years. As a benefactor of this institution, I do stand by the assertion that it was a fight. That you stand bloodied today, having survived combat with the most selective school on the continent, is a testament to the strength of your character. And of your partners," he said. He summoned an Ultra Ball from within his cloak and held it at arm's length in front of him.

Kris could feel the Pokémon in the room roused by his words. Even they understood who this man was. Zara's flame raged with pride and smoke seeped from between her teeth.

Keeping the capsule in front of him, her Dad continued. His gaze continued to tear through the crowd and imbued each student with a tiny percentage of his limitless strength. Yet it still evaded her. "Now, you have accepted the title of commander, leading an army of yourself and your Pokémon. It is you who must choose your engagements, and no two of you will stain the same battlefield. Many of you passed your university entrance exams. Others look to the world of professional battling. Some have done both."

A warmth enveloped Kris, easing her tensed muscles. She looked up and found that the Champion's—Dad's—eyes had finally met her own. And he refused to look away.

"Your war begins now," he said. "With courage, you fight. With honor, you fight. With dreams, you _fight_. Are you prepared to give your life?"

On that question, he stepped back from the podium. The auditorium was left petrified as he descended and disappeared behind them, hair burning, cape flowing.

How was she to follow him? She mirrored his path to the stage, knowing that they expected her to match, or exceed, a Champion. But for his daughter, it was obviously an easy task. She would take his place one day, and so standing in his shadow for a few short moments was simply an ode to the future.

Kris looked out to the auditorium, finally able to see the greater crowd behind the students. Dad had retreated to the back wall, accompanied by black-garbed security. Next to him, Mom sat in an all-black kimono. She had fought it when Dad proposed it—no doubt feeling strange, as a Sinnohan, to tread ceremonial ground of another culture—but now sat supportive of Kris's performance. She would never miss her daughter's graduation. A phrase escaped her lips, but at this distance, and under the stage lights, Kris couldn't make it out.

She chose to believe it was "I love you".

And so, with no transcript in hand, she faced the student body. The full speech whirled in her mind and ricocheted off the inside of her skull. The only way she could match her Dad was to be perfect. That's all she could ever be. She cleared her lips, straightened her back, took in a breath, and spoke.

Perfect. As usual.

* * *

**May 2011 - Four Months Ago**

It was the final round.

Kris stood on the raised platform, a cage barely protecting the thousands of shadowed spectators from her and her Pokémon. To her right, a giant screen played a live feed of her face as she stared down her opponent. Lightning spiked her hair in every direction as it danced around her. Her body was scorched by the pummeling daylight, and she was drowning in her own sweat, but she wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot!

She swiped her right hand from her chest to her side, holding open the palm towards the floor. The energy of the battle concentrated in the order gesture. "Leo, get to close range!"

Her Heliolisk chirped and bounced. He was a short creature, mostly covered in yellow scales, though orange bands decorated his legs and tail, and his head and extremities were wrapped in black. A similarly black frill, normally folded around his neck, flared to life. The bioelectric cells within respired in overdrive. His body surged with so much energy that sparks overflowed through the gaps in his scaly skin, and he darted towards his opponent.

"Zebstrika, Discharge!" her opponent shouted.

A radial wave of electricity burst from within the Zebstrika's body and raced across the arena floor. Leo narrowly cleared the wave with a short hop. After two uses of Agility earlier in the battle, he was fast enough to create sparking afterimages. They trailed him to the opposite side of the field in less than a second.

Kris's opponent shifted strategies quickly, no doubt realizing she had no way to counter the adept foe. She said, "Use Stomp!"

The equine enemy reared onto its hind legs, its own jagged stripes channeling negative ions. It descended to squash Leo on his approach. However, on his own judgement, he leapt early, corkscrewing through the air towards Zebstrika's head.

"Volt Switch!" Kris ordered.

With a last-second overdrive from its frill, Leo was engulfed by golden lightning. He smashed into the opponent's snout and transferred all his built-up power to the point of collision. The charged action snapped its neck backwards. The reaction, conversely, sent him hurtling back with nearly the same speed he crossed the battlefield.

Kris had his Poké Ball ready and fired the materialization beam to catch his body. The Electric-on-Electric matchup was fruitless for direct confrontation, but she understood its importance as she felt the skyward heat radiating across her skin. Leo had used Sunny Day mere moments ago. Kris quick switched for her partner. In a brilliant light, her Charizard, Zara, entered the battlefield to bask in the artificial sun.

She threw out her hand again. "Flamethrower!"

Though the opposing Trainer tried to call a dodge, the confusion of the attack caught her off guard long enough. A solar-powered spire of flame swallowed the Zebstrika whole. When the wisps cleared, it was forced to its knees, burns painting its hide between its stripes.

Kris's opponent placed a hand on her hip and played with a long cable that trailed from her headphones. She was the Gym Leader of Nimbasa City. But here, at Unova's biggest annual tournament, she was fighting as Elesa. She tried to look bored even while the sweat on her cheeks smeared her foundation.

"I commend you, sweetie. Perhaps I should teach my entire team Pursuit if people keep using my strategy against me," said Elesa.

"Thanks so much! I'm always fired up for an extra challenge, but I can't say I was expecting to face a Gym Leader," Kris replied. Though neither of their speech was audible over the roaring audience, the playback through the jumbotron carried loud and clear.

"I was interested in seeing the new talent. And I can see why you're here."

All around her, she could hear her name. Kris. _Kris_. **Kris**. In just two short years of becoming an official Trainer—helped by years of off-the-record practice with her parents and brother prior to getting licensed—she had rocketed to the top. She had worked, and toiled, and trained and trained and _trained_.

Her gaze turned to the crowd, and to the signs. Some had images of her face, others simply shouted encouragement. But the ones she couldn't look away from said "GO FOR THE WORLD TRIAL", bold and brash. Once she took this PWT Masters Division title, her third national-level competition, she'd have every requirement needed to storm the Grand Axis and claw at the title of World Champion.

She could feel their eyes. Their expectations. Walking the trail of her parent's deep footsteps, she was bound for greatness. If the world was watching, she wouldn't let it down.

"It's about time we finished this, don't you think?" asked the Gym Leader. "Wild Charge!"

Kris couldn't agree more. She wiped the moisture from her head and gave her command. "Prepare Flamethrower!"

Her opponent galloped forward, channeling the power of thunder itself. The Zebstrika grew as it closed in, looming over both Kris and her partner. No matter how close it got, and how its eyes pierced through her, she wouldn't lose her will. Her parents wouldn't. She _couldn't._

She threw out her hand. _"Fire!"_

* * *

**July 2011 - Two Months Ago**

Right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right.

Kris felt her breath hitch from the exertion, but she caught herself. No. Bad. She matched her exhales with the rhythm of her feet. This wasn't a track meet. She wasn't in a hurry. It was just a normal, average, boring, regular afternoon jog.

She saw the villa coming up and let the wind carry her the remaining meters until she skidded to a stop at the doorstep. Taking a few moments, she placed her fist on the panel siding and took in a massive gulp of air that incinerated her throat on the way down. Talk about refreshing. She much preferred the climate of Sinnoh to the perpetual burn of the Grand Axis. If the Pokémon League was so smart, why did it build its main headquarters on an equatorial hellscape?

After she finally recovered, Kris readjusted her sweat-adhered shirt and running shorts to be at the very least slightly presentable. But she stopped halfway after reminding herself, yet again, that this was home. She pushed in the door and called. "I'm back."

"Welcome home!" It was Mom, who was standing in the parlor in front of the television. A river of platinum blonde flowed from her head, highlighted by her black sweater and slacks. A library's worth of paperwork was scattered between the coffee table, some chairs, and the hardwood flooring. A thick notebook with a worn, leather cover sat central to the pile. "How was your run?"

"Geez, Mom, you really threw things around while I was out. I was only gone about..." She glanced at the elaborate clock on the far wall. Three rings twirled in concentric motions until they eventually came to rest, the inner two emulating an analog clock's hands. "Eighteen minutes?"

"Dr. Cassius asked me to write a chapter for a book of his about the evolution of Sinnohan origin myth," she said, seeming to believe that explained something.

Kris looked down and kicked a paper beneath her foot. "Did it require turning the parlor upside-down?"

"Oh, absolutely! A project like this needs the most practiced techniques academia has to offer."

" _Sure_ , Mom," said Kris. "Where are Dad and Saber?"

The villa trembled. Glass implements over in the kitchen—hanging up on angled hooks—tinked against each other and the assortment of papers slid across the floor. After a few seconds, the vibrations came to rest. Mom said, "I'd assume they're sparring."

"Yeah, I got that. I'll go make sure they don't level the house." Kris headed down the hall, tracing a hand along the spotless white wall. It felt cool under her fingertips.

The house surrendered itself to the sun in the glass passage to the courtyards. Rebounding rays left sparkles on the glass, as if she was walking under daylight stars. Their own little paradise, for the few days they could be together. Her summer break, which was really a self-imposed escape that threatened some missed classes, was her only option to see her parents since she started at SPTI—Saffron Polytechnic Trainer's Institute. No longer was she flying between Johto and Sinnoh every weekend.

She came up to the intersection of the complex. Most of the villa's living space was concentrated at the front, while the extensive open-air courtyard was split into four and outlined by the glass halls. The quadrants were microenvironments for their Pokémon to explore, but they had another purpose. Each was a functional, and reinforced, battle arena.

Kris grabbed an invisible handle and pulled open the glass panel to invade the wonderful world. It was a flower patch of infinite color and beyond infinite aromas. Each second, she discovered a newly synthesized scent among the swirling particles. Some included the sting of draconic flames, and she noticed a few of the flowers catch under a rain of violet embers.

"Command: Repeat Dragon Breath!" Her brother shouted.

His Dragonite summoned power from the earth, the flowers, the sky itself, and released a stream of flames. It bounced off the curled wings of his target, the emerald Dragonite owned by Dad—the father of Saber's own. It dispelled the remaining fire with a shake and took off flying across the field, catching its offspring off guard.

"Command: Hyper Beam!" Saber's order was desperate, and from a quick glance Kris could tell his Pokémon was running out of steam. It was pouring all its energy into one final gambit.

The younger Dragonite's gaping maw yielded an orb of pure, radiant energy. It expanded until its light nearly engulfed the Pokémon's head. Then it fired. The weapon's wielder sank into the dirt as it tried to control the recoil. The sheer power of the fired laser tore up every flower in its path, and nearly blinded Kris despite standing at the edge of the arena.

Flying within the Hyper Beam's sights, the elder Dragonite made its own decision to dodge. It charged a Hyper Beam of its own, and without delay, unleashed its fury not at the oncoming laser but at the ground beneath itself. The near point-blank discharge launched it into the air to soar over the oncoming attack. With gravity on its side, and with one final beat of its wings, it plummeted towards its enemy with an arm poised to strike.

Dad gave his order. "Use Dragon Claw!"

The emerald Dragonite slashed its charged claw. It tore across the younger's hide, making it topple to the ground, defeated. The Pokémon gently landed beside and stood over its ward. It offered the same claw that delivered the final blow.

The younger's antenna drooped as it laid in the destroyed flowers, and though it whined in pain—and possibly disappointment—it eventually took the hand of its parent to pull itself up. The beasts regarded each other with proud stances as their Trainers met in the middle. Father and father and son and son.

"That was an exceptional fight from both parties," said Saber. Despite the heat, he was wearing black slacks and a crimson button-up, similar to an outfit Dad sometimes wore. "It was genius for your Dragonite to redirect itself with Hyper Beam's recoil, and I was completely caught off guard. As expected from a Champion's Pokémon!"

Dad smirked through the statement. "You're blustering to distract from your sixth loss."

"Unfounded claims! It's simply best to be a good sport to my opponents and let them know they're doing well."

"You'll defeat me one day." Dad reached out a hand and ruffled his son's hair. He was one of few people who had the height to even make that gesture. "Both of you will."

Kris was brought out of her spectating wonder by his words and stepped forward to meet them. She toed between the flowers to hopefully save them some additional suffering. The gardening service would have their work cut out for them.

"Christine, shouldn't you be training for the World Trial as well?" asked Saber.

"Pssh, it's still about a year away. I'm just trying to enjoy a break for once," she said.

Saber shook his head feverishly, to the point she was sure he'd spin his head clean off his neck like a screw. "You should always be seeking new heights with vigilance." He grew this awful, toothy smirk. "Why do you think our battle record is the way it is?"

Kris pointed a finger and a glare. "If you're going to talk so big, why don't we go next and let your actions speak for themselves?"

"I think his team could use the rest for now. Perhaps a few days," Dad said as he finished discussing with his partner. The Dragonite took off into the air to trace the coastline, unwilling to be contained by the bounds of the villa. "Why don't we all sit down for lunch?"

"I'm starving and parched," Kris said. "Count me in."

"Our duel will have to wait, then. But rest assured, I'll collect my dues in due time!" Saber marched through the quadrant, not waiting for either of them to catch up. His own Dragonite followed him in a weakened slump.

Dad sent her a bemused look. She looked up at him and felt a warmth stronger than the summer sun. He said, "I'm glad you're home."

"I'm glad to _be_ home. I wish we could spend more time together like this. Yeah, yeah, your jobs are the most important in the world and all that, but I'll still keep wishing."

"To some degree, it's our fault," he said, watching his marching son. "I suppose we're afraid of what happens if we take a step back for ourselves."

Kris felt her eyes drift to the crushed, burning flowers. They fought with the last of their strength to stay upright, but even the ones that survived would eventually burn away if the fire weren't snuffed.

She breathed a huff. "Yeah, don't I know."

"We shouldn't keep them waiting. Would you like me to reserve a nice establishment in the city?"

"No," Kris said. "Let's just do something here."

Dad smiled at the suggestion and, with a hand on her shoulder, led her from the battlefield. When they returned to the parlor, it wasn't long before it was enveloped in a savory mist. Her partner's Flamethrower ignited the wood-fire oven, they pulled glasses from their hooks, and the cutting board was stacked with meats, fruits, and vegetables of all nationalities. The staff kept the villa stocked well.

"Might I put in an order for dumplings?" asked Saber. Kris eyed him over the counter, where he had joined Mom's quest for knowledge.

Neat stacks of notes towered over the unorderly piles already present. She watched him rip open the plastic wrap of a sparkling textbook, no doubt something he'd recently requested from a subject library of his graduate school. His program was linguistic research, building off his undergraduate major and capstone.

"That'll take extra time, buddy," Kris said. Steam framed her face when she dumped freshly chopped potatoes into boiling water, and she decided to add something exotic for fun. Her hand found a Chople Berry at random, and its sliced components joined the pot. Kris zipped between stations—sink, fridge, cutting board, stove, oven—while Dad took up post wherever she left off.

Between herself and her father, a banquet had been set to cook. Perhaps they overdid it. It looked more like a holiday event than an average midday meal, the sinks piling higher with dirtied metal, but she supposed it was a kind of holiday.

Dad's guiding hand pushed her away from the preparations. She asked, "What's up?"

"I can handle the rest from here," he said, taking command of the stovetop and checking the meat roasting on the open fire. "Why don't you play something for us?"

Light on her feet, she took his advice to the grand piano sitting at the corner of the room. Kris popped the knuckles in her fingers and peered over her right shoulder. Her mother, brother, and even Zara were waiting for the traveling orchestra. Her fingers found rest on the keys. She inhaled. She exhaled. She played.

Pages flipping and food sizzling was joined by the hammering of keys. Silvery tones bubbled from the instrument and floated about the room. Her left hand on the treble slammed four keys in an uneven rhythm, while her fingers on the right danced between notes in rapid succession. Then she repositioned and danced down the scale, before settling into a dramatic melody. Perhaps it was _too_ dramatic for the occasion, but it was a song that Mom had mastered herself as a child.

The villa, their _home_ , was alive. They were working. They were playing. They were enjoying life. And they were together.

Soon she'd have to return to Saffron, her brother and father to the Indigo Plateau, and her mother to Lily of the Valley. But as the flavors of food and music intertwined, she banished her longing thoughts. She had to enjoy the time they had left, and she couldn't let the inevitable end hold her back.

She just kept on playing.

* * *

**September 2011 - Present Day**

A white granite monument. The stone should have reflected brightly, but it was severed from the sun by an infinite barricade in the sky. The epitaphs were carved in three languages. Sinnohan, for her Mom. Johtoan, for her Dad. Unovan, for the mourning world to understand.

_Cynthia Masuta_

_December 2nd, 1966 - August 30th, 2011_

_Lance Masuta_

_July 29th, 1964 - August 30th, 2011_

_May our peace be yours. May your peace live forever._

Kris kneeled in front of it, soiling her black dress. Countless flowers, incense, coins, and empty Poké Balls were laid on the ledge near the headstone's base. None of the gifts were her own. She had forgotten to bring one.

The preceding week was foggy as the day she had found them, but she remembered spending all the tears she had between her dreams. Now she couldn't force herself to cry as she read the words over and over and over and over and over and over and over until a hand on her shoulder restrained her.

Kris glanced at the crowd behind her. An impossible mass of thousands, perhaps more, waited fifty meters behind at the base of a soft hill. Though countless had come to honor the Champions, only a select few private individuals could approach the grave itself. The one holding her was Steven Stone, Champion of Hoenn, standing like a stiff automaton. His black suit was spotless, and his otherwise pale blue hair was bleached gray by the overcast sky. He said, "You've been here a long while."

"...yeah." Kris returned her eyes to the headstone.

"The longer you stay, the harder it will be to leave," he said.

She knew that. But she couldn't take her eyes, or her body, away. It wasn't listening to her true self. Or perhaps it was, and she wasn't.

He lowered his head to the grave, and she was thankful for the lapse of silence that allowed her to stay. The grip on her shoulder shifted to beneath her arm. She didn't protest when he walked her away from the end of the world, but she kept looking back. A man in dusty boots took their place at the headstone and their eyes met for a moment as he passed.

The crowd of black-garbed visitors parted when they reached the base of the hill. It was dotted with familiar faces. Gym Leaders, Elite Four, Champions, and other League figures from across the world passed her by. Normally, standing in front of so many would have weighed on her, but aside from her essential senses, she didn't feel much of anything at all.

They were stopped by two men. One had purple hair and a messy suit—she knew him distantly as Leon Tarak, Champion of Galar—while the other looked much more put together behind his glasses.

"Jolly hello, Mr. Stone," said Leon. A smile formed on his face for a few seconds but vanished quickly. "Good to see you're doing well."

"Please, just Stone is fine," Stone said.

"Right, Mr. Stone was—" Leon zipped himself shut as his eyes met Kris. Awkwardly, and without her consent, he wrapped his arms around her. It didn't feel warm. "I know we aren't good mates but know that I'm here for you and your brother. Your parents... inspired me, and many others, and I'd return the favor if I can."

She mumbled a thank you into his chest and he finally pulled away when he realized she wasn't comfortable in his arms.

His companion pulled him back. He said, tapping a binder he was carrying under his arm, "We're still on schedule. Let's not delay much longer."

"Yeah, yeah. The Chairman can right shove it if he wants to rush me here," said Leon, who bid them goodbye and journeyed to the resting hill.

There were a few more distractions among the crowd. More people telling her sorry and expecting that something would change. Some offered her gifts, which she turned down with her reluctance to answer. Kris kept her head down and let Steven Stone take control, because she had no power left to do it herself.

Eventually, they cleared the blackened crowd and found stragglers near the edge of the grounds, including security and other managerial staff. What was most important was her brother, who beckoned them over. Stone pulled her along the bleached greenery.

Saber was speaking with the Sinnoh Elite Four. Three men, Dr. Lucian Furutre, Mr. Flint Oba, and Mr. Aaron Feil, and one elderly woman, Mrs. Bertha Kikuko, all assembled around him and spoke in hushed terms. Whatever they were discussing, he dropped it as soon as they approached. Kris felt small beneath them, like she was standing before a grand jury and awaiting her charges.

"I retrieved her for you." Stone tapped his hand against her back, and she stepped forward.

Saber bowed deeply to the man, his torso parallel to the ground. "Thank you, Dr. Stone. I was busy speaking with the Elite Four and I couldn't possibly pull myself away."

Kris chose not to speak even though she knew it was a lie. They had been on the grounds for over an hour and he had never once strayed up the hill, instead circling the edges of the visiting crowd and speaking to every acquaintance he could find. But there was nothing compelling him to do so. There was no urgent business to anyone but him.

"What is this?" Kris whispered. "I just want to go home."

"But you are! You're—we're—going to be home very soon, and I thought we should update you on the League's plans," said Saber.

Lucian stepped forward and adjusted his lavender-tinted glasses. He inverted his usual attire, a crimson undershirt beneath a black suit for the occasion. "Ah, you are officially under care of the Sinnoh League. Once we return to the grounds, you may not leave without permission from the Viceroy. I apologize that it has to be this way."

"What about the Indigo Plateau?" she asked.

"The League believes you two may still be… in danger, considering the circumstances," said Stone. "Because of the Rocket Heist, the Indigo League is considered compromised until its security protocols are completely overhauled. My suggestion was to keep you at the IPL headquarters on the Grand Axis, but they insisted you be somewhere familiar."

"I also already cleared with your professors at Saffron to give you breathing room for your classes, and to permanently work away from campus," Saber said.

"And know that we are dedicated to supporting you," said Lucian. He approached her and spoke under his breath. "If you ever need my counseling, I shall make myself available."

Kris let the explanation pass through her without response, feeling overwhelmed by so many people speaking. It didn't matter anyway. She could be just about anywhere, just as she was when she was traveling between the two Leagues on the regular. Back when she was in high school. Back when she was still living with Mom and Dad.

She toppled into Saber's arms. When had he moved so close to her? He was saying something to the people around them, but she couldn't hear him. Kris brought a hand to her cheek to find that it was wet. Oh. She still had some tears left.

"Maybe we should leave soon," he said, holding her tight and speaking directly into her ear. "Would you like to go?"

She hesitated. Her mind cast to the hill beyond the crowd, hundreds of meters behind her, and to the granite at its peak. One more moment would be enough. Just one more.

"Yeah," she said, despite herself.

Her brother supported her weight as they moved on, leaving the Elite Four and the Hoenn Champion behind. They reached the black iron gate that marked the fenced-off grounds, swung wide open for visitors to move as they pleased. Just as they passed under it, Kris's head swung on its own, and she sent one last gaze to the hill.

The mourners were still parted, giving her a clear view. She felt connected to the monument, like she could read the epitaph while still so far away. The text etched itself into her mind.

_May your peace live forever._

Even if it lived forever, it would take her an eternity to find it.

* * *

Their castle. Their fortress. Their magnificent new home.

The Sinnoh League was the guardian of Lily of the Valley Island. Though its arches and curves recalled a religious sanctuary, five domed, fortified towers rose from within. A stronghold that once held against a hundred-thousand strong army was renovated into the League's watchful citadel over the Region.

Saber, for one, thought it genius! A true symbol of hope for the Sinnohan people, that the Pokémon League could defend them from whatever ills threatened their way of life. It was a perfect throne from which a Champion could lead and inspire!

Saber stood inside the Champion's chamber. The abstract cubed interior pulsed with a neon heartbeat that was visible along the forward wall's elevator mechanism. Only the best and brightest, those that serviced their communities and proved they could lead better than any politician, were allowed entry to this sacred place. And on the rare chance that that challenger emerged victorious—certainly not something he remembered happening in his lifetime—they would ascend to the apex of the tower on the rising platform and formally receive the defeated Champion's torch.

Only now, the throne was empty.

There would be no passage through battle. Someone would have to stand in his mother's place without proving, conclusively, that they were the strongest. That they had the raw talent and courage to give people hope.

"Mr. Masuta, the conference," said a man behind him. It was an assigned International Police guard, a stocky man with long blond hair.

Saber pulled up his black sleeve and checked his watch. Just shy of eight. He'd been waiting all afternoon and had done little but pace around the building in anticipation since they arrived. He hadn't even discarded his funeral wear.

Saber turned away from the blackened chamber and passed into the sterile connecting halls lined with bar lights. He stood on an access elevator, and once the guard stepped on behind him, he let himself fall from the heavens. As he returned to the grand hall of the Sinnoh League, a whirling of emotions stirred within, unable to calm.

The throne wasn't empty. It was _emptied_.

What happened to his parents was no accident. He had seen their bodies with his own eyes. Two identical puncture wounds to the heart, inflicted in their sleep. Oceans of ink had been spilled on newspapers already—every journalist and investigator on the planet was no doubt scrambling to learn why this had happened. It couldn't possibly have been a crime of passion. This had happened for a reason.

His eyes shifted left and right, racing between people standing in the grand hall. Clerks, visitors, Trainers. The room was positively packed, but aside from tacit gestures and close whispers, it was quiet. No one had anything to say, not that they could say it if they did.

Any one of them could be guilty. As he walked to the main staircase, he focused on the people passing by. He tried to read their culpability and find something sinister hidden beneath their saddened faces. Whatever they saw in return, it made them cower.

Just days before their deaths they had de-escalated an armed conflict in Orre. And they were going to attend the World Trial next year. His parents were symbols for all people with so much work left to do, but now it would never be done.

Somehow, he would find who did this. Sinnoh, and the entire planet beyond, couldn't rest until a suspect was brought forward.

Saber ascended the spiraling stairs and ran his hand along the glass railing. He looked one last time at the hall, and the suspects within, before his view was obscured by the upper floors. When he reached the uppermost level—a suite for the Champions and their families, much like at the Indigo Plateau—he swiped his ID badge to gain entryway.

It was dark inside. Saber waved his hand over the wall's motion sensor and watched it come alive after a short delay. He didn't bother turning on more than the main commons, knowing that his sister was locked in her room. She hadn't left since they settled in.

He set himself down on the couch and flipped on the TV, setting the volume down until it was barely a whisper. The channel was already on the live feed from IPLTV-1, the Grand Axis's public broadcasting service. A motionless camera broadcast an empty podium somewhere within the International Pokémon League's headquarters. A timer in the corner blinked from 19:59 to 20:00.

A figure glided from offscreen. It was the honorable CEO of the International Pokémon League, Oberon Terminus. His green suit was topped with a mantle around his shoulders, signaling a ceremonial procession, and a scabbard hung at his waist. In his shadow was only a single person, one Saber recognized immediately. Ms. Karen Morgana of the Indigo Elite Four, wearing her blue hair in a bun with a yellow dress. They were barely acquaintances, but he had spoken with her nearly every day for years while living with his father at the Indigo Plateau.

Immediately, something gnawed at him. Why was he leading only one person to the podium? Beneath his stalwart face, there was an uncharacteristic fidgeting in Mr. Terminus's hands. This hesitation wasn't becoming of a CEO, and judging by the whispers of the audience, it didn't escape their notice.

" _Thank you for your patience."_ Mr. Terminus's mature baritone silenced the crowd immediately. _"I do not wish to linger on this point, so I shall be brief. Nor do I wish to ignore the gravity of what has transpired this past week, so I shall be reverent. We mourn the passing of Cynthia Masuta and Lance Masuta, Champions of Sinnoh and the Indigo Plateau."_

The sound of their names drove a pain through his chest. He clutched his heart, almost believing for a moment that he received their same wound.

The man on the pedestal grew more unsettled by the moment. His hands dropped out of sight below the podium to hide his uncertainty. _"It is painful for us to announce new title bearers and leave behind the world they championed. We have, and will continue, to deliberate on our decisions today, as we understand they will have lasting consequences."_

He drew out a pause. Someone offscreen announced, _"The Honorable Karen Morgana of the Indigo Elite Four will step forward to receive the title of Champion."_

Ms. Morgana strode beside the podium and then dropped to a knee. The camera turned to focus on her as the CEO stepped from behind, reached for his waist, and pulled a blade from the scabbard.

" _By decision of the Indigo Plateau, and by the authority of the International Pokémon League, I may offer you this honor,"_ said Mr. Terminus. He brought the blade up and tapped it once on her left shoulder. Rather than a second tap on her right, however, the man brought the edge to her neck. _"Do you accept the responsibility of your Region and your world?"_

" _I accept,"_ said the woman without hesitation.

The ceremonial sword returned to its home. That warranted a greater reaction than the adoubement itself. Ms. Morgana rose, stepped back, and allowed the CEO to resume speaking.

" _We hope that this will enable us, as a united people, to forge onward. Mr. Masuta would be proud to have a successor with such strength of character as Ms. Morgana,"_ said Mr. Terminus.

Who was it? Who would take the Championship in his mother's place? Barely apparent to him, he had risen from the couch and inched close to the television. His own hands were shaking. With anxiety. With fear.

" _However, I now must bring attention to unfortunate news. Due to a lack of suitable candidates,"_ the man said, making Saber's heart sink, _"the position of Sinnoh Champion will remain vacant. We are addressing this matter with utmost priority, and we will seek a Champion that the people truly deserve."_

Saber felt himself seize. Though the crowd was hushed leading to this moment, the assembly exploded with questions and microphones. Oberon Terminus had no answers to their demands.

As he stepped back from his pedestal, amidst the roar of a begging citizenry, he issued one final—hollow—statement.

" _Thank you for your cooperation."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to _Minutes to Midnight_. This story has been a long-time coming for me, as I first started planning it roughly five or six years ago now. Let's hope my waiting pays off.
> 
> This story is a sequel to two previous stories, but I tried to write as if this could be a jumping-on point for new readers. In fact, most if not all the works in this series were planned primarily around this story, and I wrote the protagonists with "soft reboots" in mind (both as a better introduction and to address some self-criticisms). This story does reference a number of past events, but I don't think a reader would be confused on a lot of the main plotlines. 
> 
> Behind the scenes, I've written up to Chapter 5 of this story. This is not so I can post quickly, but rather to give myself a buffer to fine-tune plot points along the way. So, I'll be posting as I complete chapters beyond the buffer. Also, my Beta for my previous story, [ShonnaRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShonnaRose/pseuds/ShonnaRose), is still on board and helping point me in the right direction. She was a huge help getting the first five chapters lined up.
> 
> Minor note: The characters used at the beginning of this chapter may not display properly on certain browsers.
> 
> As always, I appreciate comments for critique, for reactions, or even just to talk and speculate.
> 
> Next time is Chapter 2: Underworld Above on February 26th. See you next time!


	2. Underworld Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciel Fauder and his sister Laina finish the last leg of a roadtrip to Sinnoh and find a changed world at their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was co-developed by Titan127 and beta read by [ShonnaRose.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShonnaRose/pseuds/ShonnaRose)

𒅆𒊒𒍪𒅆,

_The first response is shock. Then, panic. The final stage, if panic isn't contained, is malice._

_It only speeds the decay. Tyranny is a tragedy, yes, but the greater sadness is watching the ultimate vices—avarice, wrath, envy, pride—slowly stain the soul once the cleansing light of hope fades. They eat away, burrowing ever deeper, until purifying them is impossible. The person within is no more._

_With care, the panic can be stopped. We weren't careful enough. I fear when it will happen again._

𒁾,

𒍪𒅆

* * *

"Hey, Ciel!" Someone knocked sharp against the fiberglass door, each rap timed with audible revolutions of the engine. "Ciel. Ciel. Ciel. Ciel."

He fired a sly look over his book, not wanting to pull his nose too far from the scent of fresh paper. His sister hovered in the doorway to the cabin and knocked again. Her face was visible through the transparent port at the center. He said, "You know it's unlocked, right?"

She stopped knocking. She paused. Laina tugged hard and slid the door roughly open. Her red hair was frizzled and splitting because, as she discovered on the first night of the trip, she forgot to pack conditioner. "I'm bored."

"You've been bored for days, like five at least. I don't know what you expect me to do about it at this point."

"Give me a thing to do."

Ciel reached over to his side, into a pile of autobiographies, field guides, and training manuals, along with stacks and stacks of his own notes, and tossed a book her way. She failed to get a grip on it and juggled it in her arms, barely keeping it in the air but never quite closing her fingers around it. The book soared high, and on its fall, Laina smashed her elbows together and caught it between them.

Ciel kept his smile, trembling to withhold his laughter, hidden behind his pages. The afternoon sun vanished as the caravan transport passed under some dense trees. The constant feeling of the tires meeting road vibrated beneath them.

His sister examined the cover of the book and dropped it to the floor in disgust. Its flat landing boomed throughout the small room. Something within his pile of texts shifted in response to the impact, but it quickly vanished.

Laina groaned. "I want to be _un_ bored, not _double_ bored. Why do you gotta be into boring stuff?"

"No celebrity got where they needed to go without learning as much as they could," he said.

"What about those hot guys that Mom likes to watch on Celadon Street Prowl?"

He tried to come up with an answer, but it died on his tongue. Instead, he notched his bookmark and closed the textbook he was reading to hold it up. "Okay, besides the point. Look!"

After blinking at it, she frowned. "It's… another textbook."

"Not just any textbook," Ciel said. "It's The Empirical and Statistical Manual to Pokémon Types, Sixth Edition. It's the single biggest text for the battling scene since the ESM 5 in 1996. People have been anticipating this book since it was announced, I think it was... four years ago."

"What people? I bet nobody is reading that except you," she said.

He pointed a finger at her and frowned, continuing to brandish the manual in his other hand. "I waited in line for _five hours_ to get this opening night because I didn't want to wait until we got to Sinnoh. And can you blame people?"

Ciel tore the book open again to an earlier bookmarked page. It was a full, two-page spread depicting a labyrinthine flowchart, interlocking with arrows and footnotes. Each major node was a unique color representing an accepted and empirically tested battle Type, and eighteen were accounted for from the previous edition's chart.

This edition, however, had twenty.

"Two. New. Types." He could barely contain himself saying it out loud. Two new types! People who thought the reclassification of Fairy or the splintering of the old Rock type into Rock and Steel were big hadn't seen anything yet.

Light. Coded warm yellow. A type solely marked by energy synthesis in the body. As expected, tons of Light-type Pokémon were reclassified from or dual-typed with Grass, but the difference was that Grass types synthesize for nutrition while Light types explicitly do so for bioluminescence or to power their energy pathways rather than metabolizing chemical resources. Effective against Ice, Dark, and Ghost. Weak against Grass, Dark, and Dragon.

Sound. Coded mint green. It had been speculated for decades. The sheer number of moves utilizing sound waves, and the amount of Pokémon specifically resistant or vulnerable to vibrations made it a viable classification option. It was only a matter of time, and the time was now. Effective against Rock, Flying, Bug, and Psychic. Weak against Steel, Ground, and Electric.

His sister stared straight through the book, him holding it, and the wall behind him. "So is that cool, or…?"

"Well, I think it's cool. I'll catch a Light or a Sound-type Pokémon as soon as I can. I need to practice with the new Types to stay ahead of the curve," he said. He jotted a note for later in one of his open notebooks.

His mound of books shuffled again. From a hole in the pile, a paw on a spindly—though muscular—leg emerged, at first stretching and then hanging limply in the air. It was dressed in white fur, black claws emerging from the paw.

Laina dug with her hands, throwing things around the cabin, until she exposed a tract of white she could rest her face onto. After a few moments of silence, the purring began. He could hear it despite the mounds of junk piled atop his partner.

Ciel leaned over and peeled back one last book to see the half-asleep and blissful, yet still somehow dodgy, expression of his partner. The black sickle extending from her head was wrapped in a knitted mitt to prevent its edge from touching anything while she slept. Raven tilted her view ever so slightly to sneer at him.

"Are you comfy?" he asked.

He took her wide yawn as a yes. By the end of this trip, his luggage and belongings would be covered in enough hair to clog his sinuses for days. He already went through enough lint rollers as it was.

He had to admit, a nap seemed inviting right at that moment. Four days on a nearly non-stop road trip had him feeling out of it, no matter how fun it was to see the sights. Just himself, his sister, and his Absol dozing the rest of the drive away sounded like a real treat. However, a voice came over the box speaker hanging from the cabin roof.

" _Attention passengers, all two'a ya. We'a short bit from Coumarine City and the Berlitz Tunnel, but we ain't stoppin again until we get to Canalave. Thanks for ridin' with us."_

"Ugh, finally!" said Laina, muffled into Raven's side. After a few more seconds, she pulled back and stole a deep breath. "We can get to the good part."

This was it. One last leg until their adventure could begin in Sinnoh. Any thoughts of sleep in his mind were instantly destroyed. Ciel shot to his feet, simultaneously empowered by the news and crippled by pins and needles. He stood strong and held a fist in front of him.

"Yeah. You got that right. Let's get this show _off_ the road."

* * *

Ciel's jacket meant forward. It was a gift from his father, and a promise to keep going no matter what. As it fell around his shoulders, he embraced its empowering weight. The gray exterior was durable, while the black lining hugged him warmly.

His quick glance outside showed nothing beyond the vehicle's window. They were trapped by the rocky walls of a wide underground passage, void of all outside illumination. The occasional glimmer of gemstones nestled in the rockface pierced the darkness, and every once in a while, an oncoming train on the tracks parallel to the passenger road would cause the tunnel to explode into light. Ciel hovered by the window as he organized his luggage. He wanted to catch glimpses of the underground architecture in those camera-flash moments.

It took him a few hours to get everything together. He couldn't catch any more lights outside, so maybe there was a gap in the train schedule.

After struggling to jam his strewn belongings into his biggest suitcase—and just now wondering why the ratio of clothes to books was one to three—he collected the rest of his personal items. His water-damaged, half-dead Poké GEAR on his wrist and three Poké Balls clipped to his boot, he was ready.

Well, almost. Before he put it in his pocket, he cracked open his new custom-order badge case. One half of the eighteen recesses were filled. Zephyr. Hive. Plain. Fog. Storm. Mineral. Glacier. Rising.

As beautiful as they were, Ciel was far more captivated by the shining emblem that sat central to the badges.

_"The Johto Challenge Sigil. Just like a Badge, it's physical proof that you've conquered the entire Johto Region."_

Lance, Champion of Indigo, had personally delivered it to him alongside his eighth Johto League badge with a small smile, a nod, and a world of confidence between his eyes. The same eyes that had watched hundreds of Ciel's betters rise to the World Trial.

He had also been the one to arrange this trip, dispatching Ciel to another Region to collect the second Challenge Sigil he needed to enter the World Trial himself. He believed it wasn't an endorsement. It was a dare.

One day, he would be as famous as Cynthia and Lance. Ciel didn't inherently care about the money, the status, or the connections, and the position—Gym Leader, Elite Four, Champion, World Champion—didn't matter. He didn't care where he ended up as long as he could grasp the indescribable power that those with fame were afforded. He'd clench his fingers around it and wield it like a legendary weapon.

It was the only way he could always be there for his friends, his family, and his Pokémon. Just being beside them to make them smile wasn't enough because he couldn't be everywhere at once for every person who needed him.

But, if everyone on Kibra knew the name Ciel Fauder, their happiness would always be within his reach.

He believed Lance wanted to see him up there one day. Who was Ciel to deny him?

One he finished tidying the cabin, Ciel stepped out into the truck's common space. The vehicle itself was the deranged offspring of an RV and a hauling truck. The front car contained three cabins, two for alternating drivers and two guest spaces, plus a toilet and a shower, all glued around the main motor like some engineering student procrastinated on their final. It tugged a covered trailer behind. What the load was, Ciel wasn't brave enough to ask.

He passed one of the two crew members, a woman named Kyoka, who slapped a rough hand into his shoulder blade. "How's the studying going, tournament boy?"

"Fine, fine," he said. The nickname came from the first day of the trip, where he caught her staring at him on the far side of every room in the vehicle. It started to weird him out until she finally confronted him, cornered him almost, to ask if he had participated in the Goldenrod Showdown.

He had. Twice, actually. Apparently, she was a big fan of competitive battling, and had anxiously awaited his return to the tournament after his Gym Battle with Whitney Akane appropriated his first attempt. Any creepiness was punted aside by the ego boost. Someone was _excited_ to see him. That was one step down from being famous.

"Well, don't read too hard or you'll blow your brains out. I suck at cleaning this place as is," she said before disappearing into her cabin.

He waved her an uneasy goodbye and stepped up to the front, putting a hand on the occupied driver's seat headrest. Through the wide, wrapping windshield, the headlights just barely illuminated the underground passage a few meters ahead of them. If it weren't for the rumble of the truck beneath him, he'd have no idea they were moving at all.

The driver, Ujenn, flicked her eyes at him with her bulging arms tight on the wheel. "How ya' liking the Underground so far? Not very comfy like yer used too, huh?"

"It's... cool? Though, I have to say, I'm glad I'm not claustrophobic." He leaned towards the windshield and angled himself to spy the roof of the tunnel. Jagged rocks passed overhead and threatened to cut gashes into their transport.

At least it was a little more comforting than the earlier leg of the trip between the shores of Kalos and Sinnoh. Though that was a well-lit concrete tunnel—the Berlitz Tunnel, she had said—unlike the rest of the Sinnoh underground, it couldn't distract him from the heavy ocean suspended above. He specifically requested a land trip. He wanted to avoid the sea at all costs.

The woman laughed. It was loud and grating, but genuine. "Well, yer' taking it better than most city folk that get the rundown. I was surprised ya could understan' me."

"I've heard stronger accents," said Ciel.

"Kan du forstå meg nå da?" she shot back, with a wicked grin. Though her calloused hands never left the wheel, her eyes left the road to find him.

Ciel slunk back from her gaze a bit, not sure what to say. He rubbed his cheek and laughed half-heartedly under his breath. However, it only intensified her taunting. She threw a few more jabs in what he believed was Sinnohan.

His eyes flicked to the windscreen. The cast headlights raced back towards their origin.

"Hey, watch out!" he shouted.

Ujenn floored the brakes and Ciel was flung towards the front. He barely managed to hold himself back with his hands on the dashboard as the entire vehicle shuddered to a stop. It probably lost a few parts judging by the sounds.

When the truck finally jerked backwards at a stop, Ciel raised his head. Across their entire view, an abrupt wall of boulders filled the space of the tunnel. The headlights reflected off the gem shards in the rubble.

" _Drit."_ A heavy breath escaped the driver as she leaned back in her seat. "Good call, kid. Hate it when this happens."

Laina and Kyoka appeared, dazed, from their own cabins. The former mouthed a "what" and all he could do was shrug. The latter asked as she stepped up to the front, "Hey, why the stop? We're gonna fall behind schedule."

"Not sure we got a choice, hun," said Ujenn.

Ciel pulled the transport's main door open. He hovered his foot past the access steps for a few moments before he lowered himself onto the unseen ground. Not waiting for his eyes to adjust, he followed the lights to the front of the truck. It was further illuminated when the following convoy vehicles pulled to a stop and idled behind the leader.

The stale air burned into his lungs, forcing Ciel to fight his way forward. He stood at the obstacle in their path and held out his hand against the barrier. It was the last thing standing between himself and the Sinnoh Region. He could feel the soft motion of his partner brushing against his legs as she examined it herself. Raven took a seat. Waiting. Expecting.

Ujenn called from the door, "Hey, don' worry about the blockage. Happens all the time. We're calling it in, and the other side's probably sent Trainers out to blast it already."

"They blast these things?" He turned back to her. "It won't collapse the whole tunnel?

"The rock here is tough, and it's got some plate frame. We can usually—" She stopped short. "Wait, what're ya thinkin'?"

Ciel shot her a grin, knowing he was fully illuminated in front of the truck's headlights. "Have your trucks back up a good distance. I have some firepower."

"Well… aight. Give it a go. Yer Poké Balls should work, they rout signal under for stuff like this," the woman said. She disappeared inside the vehicle and reappeared at the windshield to talk on the CB radio.

Ciel retrieved two of the capsules on his boot and leveled at partner. "You step back too, Raven. This is a bit out of your element."

Begrudgingly, she took place at his back and curled up on the stone floor, obviously disappointed that she didn't have something to hit or bite or tangle with. Pouting, just like his sister. No wonder they got along.

He tossed the two Poké Balls forward and was temporarily blinded by the neon light of the materialization beams. Two creatures gained form within the beams, reconstructed from exabytes of data.

One, a lithe-yet-bulky mammal, stood low on four limbs. As his consciousness returned, he stood up on his hind legs and his neck burst into flames brighter than the neon itself. His Typhlosion, Arden, revved his internal engine.

The other he had yet to fully adjust to. Overlapping plates and a horned snout defined themselves as the data poured in, framing a bulky bipedal body with a muscular tail. He was smaller than the average member of his species, but no less powerful. He was no longer the Rhyhorn that had shared his journey for over a year. Hector had evolved into Rhydon.

These three were the Pokémon he'd decided to brave Sinnoh with, leaving behind two that had accompanied him through the Johto Region. He believed them best suited to the cold, and his best bet to tailor a new team to the Sinnoh Gym Challenge. They stood mighty, awaiting their orders.

Ciel took command, "Hector, step between me and Arden and take defensive position. Arden, give the wall everything you have. We need to weaken the rock."

His Typhlosion affirmed with a growl and stepped up. As he formed a fireball deep in his gullet, his collar fired at full strength and curled high enough to lick the ceiling rocks. Arden let loose.

An infernal beam roared against the rock surface. Immediately, the tunnel began to boil. Ciel was partially shielded by Hector, whom he knew barely felt such heat at all, but he still felt his skin begin to burn under the emanating waves. The rocks turned molten under the continuous bombardment.

At last, Arden ceased his burning and stepped back. The nearly vaporized landslide was an effective substitute for the truck's headlights, which had backed off further down the tunnel to avoid damage.

Ciel nodded to his Rhydon. "Alright, Hector. Carve it open."

At his command, the drill on Hector's snout spun at high speed. He reared back for a moment before slamming his entire body into the molten wall. The power from Hector's muscles, focused into a single point on the weakened stone, was more than enough. It burst. Stray debris fired in every direction, and the boulders blasted deep into the tunnel.

Ciel felt the rumble from the initial impact through his body, and his teeth ground against each other as the ground's vibrations raced up his feet to his chest to his head. He held up his hands to protect himself, though nothing ever hit him. Hector threw his limbs wide as he could to catch any debris between Ciel and the wall. A single, slanted eye within his plates found his Trainer.

"Thanks, buddy," Ciel said, happy to avoid the scratch or two he expected.

Looking past his Pokémon, he stared into the gap they had created. Though the lights behind him were evidence of a grounded world, there was nothing ahead. Even if the tunnel's fading walls suggested that it continued, could he really be sure? Was there really anything beyond the limits of his senses?

A chilling wind blew from within the portal. He shivered and held his jacket tight. It confirmed that there was at least something in the beyond.

Ciel looked at his team. "Well, it should be wide enough for road traffic, but we should clear debris off the tracks. Hector, can you—"

A weak growling caught his attention. His head snapped to his Absol. Her limbs were shaking, but she couldn't seem to move. She was completely wracked by shivers from that wind. And then she fell.

"Raven!" Ciel rushed up to her and caught her before she hit the ground. Her muscles were so stiff. What was happening to her? Heaving his partner up into his arms—she was much heavier than she looked—he darted back towards the headlights down the tunnel. Ujenn leaned out the door to meet him. "Hey, I cleared the rocks! But, for some reason, I don't know, something happened to my Pokémon."

Then he saw the expression on her face. It was unable to meet his own. And it was pale. He held his partner tighter, not sure what it meant.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Bring her inside. Come," the woman said, though there was no urgency in her voice. She turned her back on him. "I talked with other drivers on'a radio. A thing's… happened."

Whatever this invitation was, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. After calling to his other Pokémon to come back to the truck, he stepped up himself, hoping he wouldn't have to stand the desolation of the tunnel any longer.

* * *

Ciel was numb. The words fell off his lips without feeling. "Cynthia and Lance are…"

"...gone," said Ujenn. She paused for a while. "First they said about it, but it happened three days ago."

"Was it about that incident in Orre?" he asked.

Ujenn shook her head but didn't elaborate. When she realized he had nothing more to say, she dragged herself to her personal cabin. Her partner kissed her on the forehead and told her she'd complete the rest of the trip. Shortly after they were back on the road, past the blockage.

Raven lied motionless on the couch between Ciel and his sister. Ciel kept his eyes on his unconscious partner as they coasted in silence. Nothing about her seemed off. Breathing and heartbeat were normal. No sores, no rashes. At first, he thought she'd encountered a nasty fever, but according to his Poké GEAR's Pokedex app, her high temperature was just the natural state of her species. His hand glided across her fur, trying to give her comfort in her catatonic state.

"Are you doing good?" Laina asked. There was a shaking hidden somewhere in her voice.

"I don't know." Ciel wanted to articulate something inspiring and profound, but there was no energy left for him to do so. "Lance is the reason I'm here. I looked up to them both, and they gave me the opportunity to keep going."

Her restless hands rubbed her thighs. "It's not gonna stop you, is it?"

He couldn't verbalize an answer. Kyoka spoke up after their short exchange once again made way for quiet.

"My wife back there is taking it pretty hard," she said. "I think most Sinnohans thought Cynthia was their crowning achievement. The fact that the greatest Trainer in the world was from Sinnoh, and that she was so entrenched in the Region's history through her research. Same with Lance. I guess it's like watching a parent die."

Parent. Ciel was struck with a sudden, urgent realization. He popped open his damaged Poké GEAR and navigated to his contacts. Brent, Crystal, Dad, Elm, Gold. He stopped on Kris. His text log was one-sided. A list of messages, one per day, asking and/or taunting him for a rematch. Yet he'd received nothing for the past few. Somehow it hadn't struck him as odd.

It rang. No answer. When he tried a second time, he got the same result, and then he slowly snapped the device shut.

He couldn't even imagine what was in her mind. Her brother too. But he wasn't going to press if she wasn't going to answer. He just promised himself he'd be there for her the next time they spoke. He was going where he was going to be a pillar for others, no matter what.

Finally, Raven began to stir. Her head lifted slowly off the couch and Ciel felt at least some of the breath he'd held finally leave him. She couldn't pull herself up, and he continued stroking her fur to calm her. Spasms blossomed beneath his palm.

"Geez, Raven, you scared me. You were out for seventeen minutes," he said.

His Pokémon tried, and failed, to stand, eventually deciding to remain in her limp state. She snarled at nothing, perhaps cursing her own inability. Whatever she reacted to completely exhausted her.

"Just rest." Ciel rubbed his index finger over her forehead, and her eyes closed once again. "We'll see a nurse once we get to Canalave."

"I'm sorry our trip started like this," said Laina.

He felt a sudden urge to hold her, so he did. Ciel reached across his partner and wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulder, leaning them together until their heads touched. She didn't say anything, but he could feel her relax a bit in his hold.

No matter what, they were still moving forward. This was their trip, and they were going to enjoy it.

But if he said it was easy to do that right now, he'd be lying.

* * *

"Thank you for everything," Ciel said. He thrust a pile of 10,000 at them. "And thank the Indigo League for me as well."

Both drivers shook their heads in unison. Ujenn said, "Keep it. The, uhh, the big man said it was his favor to ya."

"We get paid well enough anyway. You were just tagging along on a job," her wife followed up.

He shoved the coins back into his pocket. It was for Lance. He could understand that.

As he waved goodbye to his escorts, he and Laina escaped the distribution center where the caravan was unloading. The Underground access was close to the edge of the city, so they had a ways to walk to find a Pokémon Center. Ciel clutched Raven's Poké Ball despite how much she hated the displacement of stasis.

It was his first time leaving his home Region since he was a kid, and he should have been excited. A completely foreign space was the pinnacle of embodied experience. He expected, no, wanted to be tossed and turned at every corner, and he'd just fight back harder trying to brave the exotic landscape.

However, his gate to Sinnoh, Canalave, was lifeless.

A major canal bisected the city, and Ciel and his sister stood at the railing of a bridge, staring out to where the massive river filtered into the ocean. Not only did the water sparkle with untold life but a rainbow of buildings ran the banks. Most were five or six stories, maybe more, and each of their riverside walls was splattered with a maroon red or sky blue or gold. It was beautiful, and exactly what he was looking forward to.

But there was no one there. What should have been a bustling town was devoid of spirit, of energy, and the few glimpses of movement he caught on downstream streets seemed to disappear immediately as if they were hiding from something. Even on the automobile bridge, barely a few cars passed on their way to somewhere that wasn't here. And despite the sparkling river's promise, nothing jumped from the current no matter how long he looked.

The chill it dumped on the city by the infinite gray above is probably what found its way into the Underground access. He'd packed a second jacket for the colder months, but perhaps it'd be getting more use already.

His sister tugged on his arm. "Come on. We gotta get to the Center, right?"

"Uhh, yeah," he said, and let himself be dragged along.

The few other humans they found as they toured the city were barely clinging to life. He saw a lone couple sitting at an outdoor cafe. They weren't talking, nor were they eating. When Ciel tried to ask a small shop owner for directions, all she could give him were a few sad words in Sinnohan that he didn't believe were aimed at him. She didn't seem like she noticed him at all.

Laina dragged him along the unfamiliar city with standout vigor. Soon he was basically jogging to keep up with her. It seemed like she was the only living person in Canalave, because he certainly wasn't feeling very alive. They walked past a shop whose open doors emanated a fishy, seawater smell.

"Hey, Laina?" he asked.

"What?" She didn't even turn back to him to answer.

"You never even told me why you wanted to go on this trip. I thought you didn't want to be a Trainer."

His question made her stop. Ciel's momentum, however, didn't, and he smacked into her, nearly knocking her to the pavement. She turned one-eighty to throw a sour look at him.

"I don't. I don't want to spend my life on something dumb that makes Pokémon get hurt," Laina said.

"It's a lot more complicated than—"

She raised a pointed finger that shushed him up. "But more than anything I want to learn about Pokémon and people so I can score some exciting job in the League and make laws that help Pokémon be safe. And right now, I'm not learning anything."

He titled his head. What on Kibra was she on about?

"I wanna see you do your thing, you know? If you want to be super-duper famous and have all the cool stuff in the world or whatever, you can't if you're like… _this_ ," she said, motioning at him with two open hands.

Ciel hadn't noticed himself, but he was slouching a bit, and his head was hanging. His feet were a little closer together than usual. He raised his head to his sister's judgement.

"I know it's sad, but you can't let it stop you. You didn't come here because Lance Masuta sent you here. You came here because this was where you wanted to go!"

He felt his lips curl upward into a tired smile. It was a crazy decision she'd made to follow him. And in her first year in junior high, too, where she elected to do distanced education while they traveled around Sinnoh. It took an astronomical amount of convincing—whining—to finally sway their parents from "No!" to "No." to "We'll think about it." to " _Absolutely not!_ " to "Only if Ciel promises that nothing bad happens." And he had no part in it. It was all Laina.

He had to remember that it wasn't just his adventure, but theirs. They were going to make their dreams come true somehow, someday.

He took in a breath, and as he gathered himself to respond, a brick soared narrowly past his head. It struck a window. The window shattered.

On instinct, Ciel grabbed his sister, ducked, and covered her head with both his arms. They were showered in glass. He raised his head just slightly to see a man, a hoodlum, in a hoodie and a knit cap, with another brick in his hand. Ciel snatched a capsule from his boot and Arden exploded from the materialization beam, painting the street in the glow of his inferno.

"You almost hurt my sister," Ciel said.

The man's arm was dragged down by the weight of the brick, and he took a step away from the flames. He hesitated. "I didn't mean to."

'What do you mean you didn't _mean_ to?"

"I don't know!" he shouted back. "I just… felt like throwing something."

He took in a long breath, feeling it stretch his lungs, before letting it all out at once. Ciel roughly grabbed his sister's hand in his own, squeezed hard, and pulled her away from the glass-laden sidewalk. "Come on, Laina. Let's go."

She nodded, and they quickly left the hoodlum behind. This time it was his turn to guide them, but really, he was just trying to get away from whatever that was. An encompassing dread was all around, as if the entire city had come down with a sickness. They walked the sidewalk close to the ocean, where an armor of moored ships protected the city from the waves.

Two men walking had gotten into a fight and stood face to face with their fists balled. They were in plain view in the middle of the street, forcing a blocky car to skid to a stop. The driver stepped out and joined their quarrel, stopping a few more stray cars in their tracks.

The silent city seemed to be suddenly teeming with activity, but not the welcome kind. He and his sister hurried along, desperate to get away from whatever crazy area of the city that people were congregating in. The Pokémon Center should have been just this way. Maybe.

A smoke smell hit his nose. He turned around to recall Arden, only to find that he'd absentmindedly done so when he stormed away from the brick-thrower. The smoke felt like it was getting hotter.

"Uhh, Ciel," said Laina as she tapped his forearm.

He followed her pointing finger. Rising atop the colored buildings was a column of black smoke, and he could feel its emanating fumes coat his throat. Quickly, he jogged over to the next major street to catch a glimpse.

The largest group of people he had seen yet was congregating, as if in religious ceremony, around a fireball. Ciel saw a car melting within the flames. There must have been hundreds, and the overwhelming feeling among them was chaotic. Another soaring object crashed through a shop window. People were brawling, throwing punch after punch to whoever they could find, and splattering drops on the pavement for each hit they took in return. They were at war. With whom, he didn't know.

Law enforcement in neon vests floated at the edge of the chaotic pool, shouting orders in Sinnohan. But they too were pelted with objects and were afraid to walk too close to the gasoline fire that the rampaging citizens were keen to ignore.

Ciel saw a bright red building on the far end of the street within the sea of chaos and knew he needed to get there somehow.

A metal chime. Despite the clouds, a blinding reflection traced from his eyes, from the building's window, from the blade of a drawn knife behind him.

"Gi meg kontanter," said the man. The attacker. The criminal.

_Something cold found itself against his neck. His arm fell limply to his side as he realized what was happening. He began breathing faster. His vision blurred._

_"That's right. Put your little toy away, you don't need to use it," called a sickly, feminine voice._

The man rushed at them, and Ciel had no time to reach for his Poké Ball. He twisted sharply and caught the man's wrist with his opposite hand. He squeezed, _hard_. The man's cry of pain, and the knife falling from his grasp, was forgotten as Ciel grabbed his side, tripped him with his foot, and flipped the man brutally onto the pavement. He kicked the knife away, hoping it would slow his accelerating breath.

Laina was flat against the wall, lungs frozen. With a quick glance at her, Ciel once again grabbed Arden's Poké Ball. He leaned over the man and brandished the capsule, trying to hide how much he was shaking. "You have three seconds."

The man didn't use even one. He flipped himself up and took off, nearly tripping over himself as he did so. Ciel clenched his fist around the capsule. He was sweating, and his heart beat strong enough to share his skull with his brain. His other hand found its way to his neck, scraping at a thin scar line.

There was something wrong with this city. He looked at his sister, her face marred with a terrified expression.

"W-what's going on, Ciel?" she asked. "People are being crazy."

"I don't know, but we need to get somewhere safe. We should go back and find the caravan."

"Right," said his sister. She hugged herself to keep her splintering pieces together.

As they turned to leave, someone else arrived and planted themselves in the center of the street. An officer managing the riot ran up to him and briefed him on the situation with hitched breaths. Ciel watched the man with intrigue, wondering what exactly he was going to do, as he didn't look the part of law enforcement. He wore gray coveralls dusted with black particles and a reflective silver vest. Most strangely, a hard hat capped his head.

He drew a capsule, and in a flash, three Pokémon rose from the earth around him. Ciel didn't recognize any of them. One looked like a floating statue carved in blue stone, though its nose and brow were a bright red. The other two were walking tanks. One looked reptilian, like Hector, with distinct blue armor banding its limbs and crowning its skull, and the other was a stout creature whose shield-like head sprouted multiple tusks and spines.

The Trainer moved forward, the ground shaking with each step his creatures took. Ciel peeked to the street again and watched the immediate change.

The rioters dropped their fists and their shouts, all eyes turning to the newcomer stepping past the vague perimeter created by the vests.

For those that didn't bow immediately, the man offered an incentive. He took off his hat and swapped it for a pair of earmuffs. Then, he gave his order. "Bastiodon, Metal Sound."

If Ciel had been directly within the sound's path like they were, he was certain his eardrums would have bled. He grabbed his throbbing head as the sound of grinding metal exploded across the street. Most of the people, even those that had dropped their rampage early, were forced to their knees by the aural bombing. He heard radar in his ears when it ceased, everything muffled within rings and beeps.

"For those of you that can still hear me," he announced, speaking Unovan with a notable accent, "these are your two options. If you return to your homes immediately, you won't encounter much trouble. But if you decide to stay here, _don't_. Do I make myself clear?"

Clearly, he did. The crowd dispersed in seconds, leaving a street cluttered with stray bricks, pipes, trash, and remnants of a car that had started to burn down. Only a few stuck around to see the promise fulfilled and were promptly handcuffed by the vested officers now that the situation was within their control.

Ciel felt like he was in awe. The only time he had seen command of a Trainer like this was when Lance Masuta led an operation to dismantle a Rocket Syndicate complex underneath Mahogany, Johto. His father had said it succinctly. It made you feel like you could do anything.

He had stepped forward without realizing to speak with the Trainer, Laina's hand firmly in his own. His ears were still ringing. "Hey."

The man twisted to face him, his Pokémon glowered silently, and the officer beside him held his cuffs in view. Ciel put his hands up to imply no trouble.

"I'm not here to stay. I just wanted to say, err, thank you. I needed to get to the Pokémon Center," said Ciel.

"Yeah. Get to where you're going." The man sighed and made eyes with the pavement and recalled his Pokémon. "It'll be quiet as an abandoned mine for a little while."

"Are you a Gym Leader?"

The man searched him and his sister top to bottom, as if looking for some reason to be alarmed. He finally asked the officer to lay off the threat of cuffs. "You're not from around here."

"Just got here, actually. I'm from Johto. From Mahogany. Well, from Goldenrod, but now from Mahogany." Ciel tried his best not to bite his tongue off.

"Well, I'm Roark. Leader of Canalave and area foreman of the Underground."

Ciel felt himself light up. After everything that had happened today, he'd nearly forgotten why he was even here. But already, the opportunity arose to meet a Gym Leader. He took another excited step, only for Roark to silently cast him down.

"I can see those on your boot there, and if you're gonna ask what I think, you should know that you can't," the Gym Leader.

The smile melted off Ciel's face. He asked, "What?"

"All Gyms are currently suspended. I can't take challengers even if I wanted to. Most of us are preparing to be called up to the Pokémon League for something that—well, I wasn't even supposed to share that much, but you get the idea."

"He came all this way for the Gyms. When will they open?" It was Laina who spoke up, asking a question that Ciel would probably have been hesitant to press.

"Look, I know you've got big dreams and all and you want to be tough, but right now, we have bigger things to worry about. Just look what happened here." Roark pointed to the ruined street and the memory of the mayhem. "This happened because we broke the news. We didn't know how people would react, and this is way worse than we imagined."

Roark said something in Sinnohan to the officer, who joined his comrades in addressing the street. The Gym Leader turned away from Ciel.

"The most you could do is request the League directly, but I can't guarantee results. Sorry, man."

Roark left him to ruminate, and disappeared somewhere down the street, no doubt the direction of his Gym. He left Ciel a silent mess, wishing to ask so many more questions but knowing it was pointless to let them free. Instead, he turned back to the street, and to the Pokémon Center shining like a beacon at the end. The burning car had been reduced to just a pile of molten scrap coughing wisps. It looked sad.

Arden's capsule was still glued to his hand and hadn't left since the man with the knife approached them. He held it out to the ruins.

"You're right, Laina," he said.

Her hand hadn't left his grip, and she looked up at him with scared eyes.

"I can't let this get to me. I didn't come all this way just to be stopped by something like this." He held her hand a little tighter, the firmness ironically making her decompress. The gentle splashing waves, the calm sky, it was all the welcome voyage he had been hoping for if he could just look past what was blocking his view. "Future me would be able to fix this. I need to become my future me, for you and for everyone.

"What do we do first?" she asked.

He'd been frowning all afternoon, but he parted his lips to let his teeth show. "I'm going to go right to the Pokémon League. It's in my hands to be famous."

His Pokémon and his family were with him. The friends he left in Johto were together apart, and no doubt cheering him on every step of the way. Ciel had everything he needed if he could convince himself to take it.

And whether today or tomorrow, he would take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to meet another of our major protagonists. For those of you who have read [Anew](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346561/chapters/38246558), it's been about a year in real time since you last saw him. I really like the difference between the wanderlust-stricken kid at the beginning of that story and the more goal-oriented, confident person seen here. Hopefully, he's grown up in a satisfying way.
> 
> My main interest in this story was seeing how Champions (or their absence) affected people, which is already starting to show through here. It also gives me good room for playing with atmosphere in a way my previous stories hadn't.
> 
> If it's not clear by the language dialogue, one element of this story is that I'm primarily styling Sinnoh's geography and architecture after Norway. Though Hokkaido is cool, I wanted to make this seem like more of a global jump and move away from the Japanese style in Johto. I can't guarantee how accurate translations will be, unfortunately, so I'll try to keep it within the limits of useful resources so as not to break immersion for native speakers if I try (and fail) something more complicated. If any fluent Norwegian speakers want to rat me out, such as if I use a word with incorrect connotation, please do so.
> 
> Since I ended up posting this today, happy Gen IV remakes! Admittedly, I was a little less exited for them because I knew well in advance it would happen due to rumors, plus these are the first remakes that I played after having played the original games, so they lack a bit of the novelty. However, I'm still excited for them (especially writing this now), and that Legends game looks neat! I just must get over it trying to convince me that Poke Balls existed hundreds of years ago. Just don't think about it.
> 
> Come back on March 18th at the latest for Chapter 3: Heir to the Throne.
> 
>  **Reading:** Gideon the Ninth, various sci-fi short stories
> 
>  **Watching:** Choujuu Sentai Liveman, RWBY, Code Geass, Pokémon Journeys
> 
>  **Playing:** Danganronpa V3, Final Fantasy VII Remake, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney


End file.
